


border state

by Areiton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: They exist in the in-between





	border state

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Stony Monthly Prompt for the quote: 
> 
> I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven’t said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.  
Tove Jansson-

They exist in the in between. 

In the quiet flight home, when Tony slumps in Steve's arms, smelling of hot metal and ozone and smoke.

In the pre-dawn light, when Steve puts off leaving his bed and Tony's sleep soft limbs twisted around him, endless blankets warm and smelling of them. 

They exist in the quiet silence before debriefs and missions and press conferences, when they stand side by side in solidity and something close to harmony. 

They exist in the silent tower filled up with ghosts and regret and their quiet murmurs, and bots he can't help but love. They exist in a beach house one hot August month, a infinite heartbeat where they hid together and Tony was _ his _, sun warm and lazy and insatiable, his mouth hungry and his body hot. 

They exist in those border places, between duty and expectation, between pressure and public eye. When they are not Captain America and Ironman, not Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, when they are just _ Steve _ and _ Tony. _

They aren't enough. He wants more, wants to scream it from the top of the Tower, wants to drag him close and kiss him senseless while the cameras shutter and reporters scream questions. 

He wants Tony in his bed, wearing his bites and clothes and ring. 

Tony isn't ready for that. Not for the scrutiny and scandal, not for the way it will blow open every inch of their private life. He gets it. He does. Tony has lived his life in the public sphere, since he could crawl, he'd been picked apart and judged and so often found wanting.

They give everything to the world. He isn't ready, yet, to share this, fragile and beautiful and his lips are apologetic and pleading and Steve sighs and bends and gives. 

There is nothing he would not give Tony. 

They wait. 

This, now, the quiet in-between, the stillness between love and the life, where they linger in soft kiss bliss and stolen moments, is theirs. 

It is achingly beautiful and brief and he thinks, maybe. Maybe the way it is jealously guarded by Tony means it will end, give way to something deep and endless. 

He waits, on the cusp of fall, on the edge of sleep, in the cabin where Tony dragged him, and smiles, dreaming of the future. 


End file.
